


Broken Wings

by demon_faith



Category: Smallville
Genre: Alternate Universe, Episode Tag, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-16
Updated: 2010-07-16
Packaged: 2017-10-10 14:21:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/100720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/demon_faith/pseuds/demon_faith
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Take these broken wings // And learn to fly</p>
            </blockquote>





	Broken Wings

**Author's Note:**

> Consider – four insane young women and one long-suffering man in a car, driving round Devon. Insert fandom and Savage Garden, and you have songfic challenges springing up from nowhere. Except this is kind of the wrong song. Oops.
> 
> This fic is based on Savage Garden's 'Gunning Down Romance'
> 
> For Mags – fic to read but not to beta! This is set post-Exodus, but I was spoiler-free for Season 3 when I wrote this, so the fic must be AU.
> 
> Enjoy!

It's only chemistry. Biology. Logical, scientific, rational.

Clark wondered if he repeated it enough, it would become truth. He leaned his head back again the grime-streaked wall, fighting to stop the tremors. It just got worse, until he was sure the paper-thin plaster would be shaken free. He collapsed sideways, curling into his cramping stomach, shutting his eyes against the pain.

This didn't happen to him. He was invulnerable, impervious. He sobbed out a laugh – not any more. Freedom brought a price.

He knew about addiction – there had been social lectures at school. He had listened to the stories of highs and hangovers in the locker room, and promised his mother never to touch anything. Not that it would affect him, nothing ever did – Earth rules didn't apply, physics, biology, none of it.

That had been theory two months ago. Now, it had been tried and pushed, and he knew for sure. Uppers, downers, hallucinogens – he was immune to it all. Red Kryptonite was another story.

He shuddered at the thought, or possibly another spike of fever. It seemed aliens did get addicted after all. He forced his eyes open, and winced at pale rays of dawn light spilling through the motel window. The half-light rolled across the room and glinted off a shiny red ring lying in the dirt.

He tried to shut his eyes again, but they were drawn to the gem. He reached out a shaky arm, craving the innocent-looking jewel, needing to hold it close.

_It would stop the pain_, a voice whispered.

_Yes_, Clark agreed, _and I could forget pain forever._

He cried out angrily, and slammed a fist into the floor. The wooden board split. He couldn't do this. He wasn't strong, he wasn't used to temptation, to pain. He wasn't used to being alone.

He needed Lex, damnit! And where was he? On honeymoon with a beautiful doctor, enjoying the sun and not caring about his friend fighting addiction in a crumbling motel.

Clark pushed away the selfish Red echoes, and concentrated on Lex. No, it wasn't his fault, he didn't even know. He deserved to be happy, happy with Helen...

_But I need him_

Clark could feel the shaking begin to lessen, and took a deep breath. Lex would look for him when he knew, Clark was certain. He had to – Clark wasn't strong enough to deal with this, with anything. He'd grown to rely on Lex, he needed him – and it had been him, hadn't it?

Lex didn't know it yet, but he had stopped the Red. It was small things at first, flashes of Zero as he'd trawled the clubs, Lex's hurt eyes as he kissed, and played, and learned.

Not Lana. Lex.

Lex was everywhere and Clark couldn't shut him out. He'd taken the ring and thrown it across the room, hating it, hating Jor-El, hating himself. And as he'd slid down the wall, he'd felt hot then cold, and the shaking and nausea had started.

_Kryptonians even do withdrawal quickly. Typical._

But now he had to concentrate to keep Lex there, the pull of Red strengthening, begging him to forget, to find the feeling of power. To rule.

Clark closed his eyes and waited to be saved.

~

Everyone loves a lover. Love was a universal constant, the foundation of society, of religion, of hatred.

Lex hated. He hated Lionel for beating him, Helen for betraying him, but most of all, he hated Clark for not being there.

Edging further into the sparse shade offered by the trees, he let out a shaking breath. That wasn't fair, he knew, but it didn't stop him thinking it. To hell with acceptable and fair – his wife and father had tried to kill him. Again.

He knew he'd have to search for food again soon, but the sun drained his energy, like a blackhole at the end of a straw.

He had always been weak. Emotional, lacking control, the disgraceful son. It was the deep urges, the primal senses that drove him, barely leashed in by a mind born to think about thoughts of ideas of concepts. He wanted the one thing he couldn't have – acceptance, love, a reason not to hate.

Lex frowned. That was three things. Or was it? He closed his eyes, willing the dawning truth to bury itself because he certainly didn't have the strength. Clark accepted, Clark loved, and above all, he was a reason not to hate.

His father's games, his necessary lies – none of it mattered with Clark. Clark would always save him. Except this time.

Clark was in some lush Kansas field, discovering Lana, being discovered. He was happy – and Lex wanted that oh-so-much. But right now, he wanted him _there_, with him, saving him.

Solitude had never bothered Lex, but now, with hot, humid death lying beside him on the sand, he needed Clark. He didn't want to die alone.

Lex felt a tear escape his eye, and cursed – it was stupid, to cry for this, for nothing. He was becoming emotional, hysterical and logic insisted he was wasting water, speeding death.

Lex cried away the logic.

~

Dusk fell as Clark rose. His body felt deflated, abused, and his head protested the necessity of light and sound.

No one had tried to find him in two months – not his parents, not Lana, and definitely not Lex. And somehow, Lex hurt the most. His best friend, his...there were no words. There was depth there that he simply couldn't comprehend, something fierce that demanded to know why he couldn't pull Lex into a closet and find out if the tiger bites. And he didn't know the answer.

It was best to forget – but look where that had brought him? And his supposed girlfriend didn't care. The remaining strains of Red called her names and plotted revenge, but he just felt pity, a loss. It was true – romance was dead. Besides, he wasn't worth it.

Emerging from the motel room, he breathed in the cool air. He was still free. Moving slowly away from the building, he felt the last of the Red fade and he sighed.

Then, without warning, a sheet of newspaper flew into his hand. His fingers closed instinctively and he held on. He looked down. Lex looked back.

He pulled the sheet taut and read quickly. Plane...missing...reward...grieving...he let the paper escape, as all the pieces fell into place and he sped into the night.

~

Surrender wasn't acceptable to a Luthor. Neither was romance though, and that had never stopped him. Too bad they only wanted him dead.

He had never convinced himself of Desiree, remembering the shadow in Clark's eyes when Lex hadn't believed him. But then Lex never believed him, never trusted him. There were lies, and lies within lies, and only Clark's eyes held them together. The eyes that unwittingly radiated love and hope and...truth. The only truth that mattered.

But Clark wasn't there, Clark wasn't interested in Lex, and so to hell with romance, to hell with Clark.

Lex slipped into black with green-tinted love behind his eyes.

~

Desperate now, with fear powering Red-wasted muscles, he ran towards the coast. He had a sense of Lex near, he could feel it. It was stronger here, but the call beckoned over the ocean.

Lex didn't need hesitation. Clark closed his eyes, and ran towards the cliff. He never stopped, eyelids pressed firmly closed, as his legs moved and carried him towards his goal.

~

Lex was aware of a rushing sound and a presence on the sand. He cracked open his eyes and gasped.

"Lex?! Oh God, Lex!"

Hands slid behind his shoulders, lifting and soon he was rested again solid, shaking Clark. He had saved him. He had come.

~

Clark held onto Lex like a drowning man, pressing him into his body.

"I'm so sorry, so sorry..."

"You're here," was the faint whisper and Clark sighed.

"How badly are you hurt?"

"Thirsty. You're...you're shaking."

Clark didn't know what was happening in this moment, but he kissed Lex's forehead gently and just breathed.

~

Lex sank into Clark and was slowly raised to stand. In a blur, Clark placed them face to face and taking another breath, began to lift them slowly.

"I have so much to tell you, Lex."

"Me too," he murmured, seeing the truth, finding it didn't matter.

And knowing he still believed in romance.


End file.
